We’re leaving Friday morning to go to the beach. Ahh, I know you think it’s all about fun and games, but it isn’t. See, we’ll be working on wedding stuff. Specifically, we’ll be seeing the place we want to get married and talking to the event planners there.
In the mean time, there’s a lot of preparation that’s taking place. And the biggest preparation must be made for our biggest challenge, our almost biggest family member…Bishop. Such is the plight of the dog owner.
When other people leave town for a few days, no big deal. When dog owners try to leave for a few days…huge deal. Who will take care of the puppy? And he’s just a baby.
Okay, he’s more like Baby Huey. Our baby weighed in last week at 115 pounds. And I realize I didn’t exactly mention the trip to the vet. I didn’t tell you how challenging it was to get him into the vehicle. I didn’t tell you it took two of us…me and Rachel. HE was still working and met me there. (Thank goodness, otherwise I’d still be wandering around that parking lot, wondering how to load the pup.) I didn’t mention that he took up the entire back seat. Most of all, I didn’t tell you how he launched himself out of the vehicle and over my head when we returned home. Yup. Scared the life out of me.
So, we’re having trouble finding someone to care for Bishop. Laura is out of town and Ed is working a lot of hours over the weekend. And it seems like just about everyone else is afraid of the responsibility. Who can blame them?
Our baby has developed a bit of a reputation. Where other big dogs are destructive, ripping apart upholstery, gnawing on wooden furniture, soiling the carpets, Bishop hasn’t. He has two weaknesses: stuffed animals, since they so closely resemble his own toys; and food. That dog loves food. (He takes after his mommy…)
Sunday morning, I made a breakfast of cheesy scrambled eggs and maple sausage for Lonnie and Lindsay. We ate some and then they had to leave. HE was just limping out of the bedroom. So, we walked them out and like the complete trusting idiots we are, left Bishop alone in the kitchen.
He’s wiley. I’ll give him that. I heard a noise and went to investigate. Bishop bolted from the kitchen to his food bowl and tried to act non-chalant. We started to walk back into the house when we heard a louder crash. Ah. That was the sound of the pan of eggs falling from the stove to the tile floor. Excellent.
He was disciplined and kenneled. And I’d love to tell you that it works. Instead, when it comes to food, he seems to want to risk the consequences. He may always be like this. Knowing that it could be far worse, I’m hoping that consistency will eventually pay off.
And if it doesn’t…he’s hard not to love. His devotion is touching. His snuggling is moving. Really. I’m usually squished. And I can’t remember life before him. We wouldn’t have it any other way. In some ways, he’s a symbol of our relationship, another challenge that we face head on. In our world, don’t give us some wimpy…the bigger, the better.
- develop compassion for all living beings